Punish Me
by Forgive My Sins
Summary: He hated her. No, he despised her. But he wanted her – perhaps even needed her. It wasn't love. It wasn't even lust. It was hatred and the need for power, the need to be in control, burning within him.


**Disclaimer:**All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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><p>Honestly, this is not my best work whatsoever, however I am posting it because a lot of people over on my tumblr seemed to be quite fond of the pairing idea and I thought I would give it a try. The inspiration came from a graphic I had to make through request – a link can be found on my profile. I actually really like the idea of these two. I don't think they would ever have a special relationship, but I could definitely see them having passionate sex in many different ways, lmao. This is just a smutty little one shot of how I imagine them to be like. Let me know what you think of them! It was fun to write a darker side of Jareth. He is more of a romantic when I am writing for him opposite Sarah, there is more love involved so I really liked exploring a different side of him.<p>

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><p><strong>PUNISH ME<br>**Pansy Parkinson/Jareth  
>He hated her. No, he <em>despised <em>her. But he wanted her – perhaps even needed her. It wasn't love. It wasn't even lust. It was hatred and the need for power, the need to be in control, burning within him. He might hate her, but there was a undeniably strong attraction between them that seemed almost impossible to ignore.

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><p>It was late – an eerie silence seemed to have fallen upon the corridors of the school as darkness loomed over the castle. The magical flames of dimly lit candles were the only source of light that could be found in the pathetic excuse of a room that he was supposed to call an office. His top lip sneered up in disgust at the audacity of him being confined to just one room when he had an entire kingdom bowing to his feet back at home. If that was the case though, a voice in his head asked him why an earth he was wasting time in this god forsaken dump. He was Jareth, the Goblin King after all – he was the child snatcher, the seducer of dark magic, the dream catcher, among other things and yet here he was, spending his time <em>teaching<em> magic he had mastered many years ago to a bunch of bratty kids, magic that he didn't even think was important compared to some of the other tricks he was capable of. What an earth had caused him to stoop so low?

He already knew the answer. Cold, mismatched eyes hardened at the sheer memory of it. This was all Sarah's fault. When she had defeated his labyrinth, when she had defeated him, his magic had been damaged considerably. He had hoped that by returning Aboveground, by entering the wizarding world that he had abandoned oh so long ago, that it would have restored him back to his full power. He had hoped it would have given something to him, helped him in some way, perhaps given him some sort boost but it hadn't. Instead of finding the answers he so desperately sought out, he just found himself teaching a bunch of idiotic children who thought they were better than they were, stronger than they were, simply because they had fought and survived one single war. It was exasperating, even sickening, to know what he had become and yet he refused to return home until he found some source of valuable information he could use to repair the wounds that had been inflicted upon his kingdom.

"Mind if I join you?" A sultry voice that was all too familiar reached his ears, interrupting his train of thought. He ground his teeth together and closed his eyes, as though hoping if he counted to ten, he would open his eyes and the intruder would be gone. There was no such luck though.

With a sigh that sounded oddly like defeat, he reopened his eyes and tilted his head, his gaze fallen upon the slender figure that stood in his doorway with such confidence, as though she believed she belonged there, as though she believed she was worthy enough to just visit him whenever she felt it necessary. He felt a twinge of anger in his chest, but managed to ignore it, looking away once more and closing the book that had been open on his desk. "I mind on many levels and with great intensity." He growled out, speaking his words dangerously slow, speaking to her like he would a young child, a mere toddler. It didn't seem to bother her though – she merely smirked at his attempt to brush her off and entered the room anyway, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. His eyes rolled and he bit back a groan of irritation. Since coming here, he had grown to dislike many different people, but there were no words to describe just how much he had come to hate Pansy Parkinson. She was a vile little creature who cackled far too loudly at jokes that weren't even funny and refused to work when in the classroom. He wasn't even sure why she bothered returning to finish up her final year if she wasn't actually going to do anything though he had a feeling she had simply done it to keep up appearances. Whatever her reasons for being here were, he wished she wasn't.

And yet, that hadn't stopped him from allowing her to seduce him three months ago. It wasn't that he was weak, but he was still a man and when she was offering it up to him so willingly, who was he to say no? It had been a sweet distraction and it had also been the perfect way to shut her up for five minutes. Ever since then, they seemed to be playing a vicious game with one another. If it wasn't her cornering him in his office and refusing to leave until he gave her what she wanted, then it was him dragging her into a dark alcove of the castle and taking her against the wall without much warning. He knew she didn't care for him nor him for her. The only thing they truly felt for each other was discontent, but that hate within them seemed to build up such a fiery and passionate desire that they could not resist giving in from time to time. She might only be a bratty eighteen year old who thought far too highly of herself, but it was easy to forget that when she was raking her nails down his back and the noises she mewled in his ear helped him forget Sarah even if it was just for a few moments. He didn't feel guilty for the fact he was using her – she was doing the same, using him as a way to distract her from the fact her previous lover, Draco Malfoy, was now dating a female two years younger than her and making no attempt to hide it from the world or her.

Pansy had returned to the school not because she wanted to finish her education, but simply because she wanted to prove a point to her peers. After her infamous attempt – more like suggestion really – to hand over perfect fucking Potter to the Dark Lord during the final battle at Hogwarts last year, she had hardly been welcomed back with open arms though according to law, everyone was entitled to an education and while she did not care about grades, she returned anyway simply to show the community that their judging little ways did not affect her. The moment her eyes had fallen upon their latest Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, she had come to realise what a marvellous decision she had made to return. Of course, she had seen what every other female with vision had seen – a beautiful, beautiful man who decided to wear ridiculously tight pants that greatly flattered what he hid underneath. The only difference was Pansy was the only one of them brave enough to follow through with the attraction. At first it had started out as harmless little flirts, something she did often with most of the males in her lives. Even Severus Snape had been the victim of it or years during Potions classes. She had become very aware of her sexual appetite at a young age and not once had she ever bothered to try and hide it. It was only when he had begun to respond aggressively to her innuendos did she begin to pursue the matter further, wishing to test the waters and find out just how far she could push him. Apparently, it was quite far.

He had told her to stay after class after a particularly painful lesson in which she had continuously disrupted with her perverse humour and sarcastic drawls. It had started out as an argument, but the moment she had dared to insult him that had been in it – within seconds she had found herself bent over the desk with her skirt bunched up at her waist, finding out the true reasons why he carried a riding crop around with him all the time and it wasn't because he enjoyed riding hippogriffs in his spare time. Rather than being startled or even upset by the whole thing, she had welcomed it gladly. Pansy was, if nothing else, a bit of a masochist and it had been what she wanted after all. She hadn't expected it to be so sudden or so rough, but the surprise had only made it more rewarding. It had been enough to make her come back for seconds, thirds and even now, three months on, she found herself standing in his office again. She wasn't quite sure what had persuaded her to come, though she had a funny feeling it had something to do with the fact she had walked in on Draco and Astoria heavy petting each other like dogs in heat.

Last week Jareth had told her that her silly little mind games were over and had refused to touch her when she requested. She hadn't spoken to him since, just sent him sly little smirks from across the room whenever he taught her. She had been tempted to see if she could blackmail him with threats to tell McGonagall, just because she liked the idea of having that power but quite honestly, she didn't think he would give a single fuck. He was so cold, so freaking damaged and she loved it. It was dangerous – it was _thrilling. _

"Parkinson, it is two hours past curfew. You should be in your common room." He told her, his voice steady and firm, no hint of emotion in it whatsoever. He still didn't look at her, but instead appeared to be weaving a crystal ball from his left hand to his right hand in a repeated motion. She'd seen him do this several times before though never understood what the hell he was actually doing nor did she care enough to ask.

"Well, you know me..." She drawled out slowly, her voice making him grind his teeth tighter together, the muscle in his jaw flexing. It was high pitched and hit every wrong nerve each time he heard it. Everything about her just seemed to anger him. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and strangle her though unfortunately laws were different Aboveground than under it. It wasn't as easy to get away with such things when you weren't the King. Instead he stared at the ball he was fiddling with instead, hoping to drown out her voice but he knew such a thing would be nothing short of a miracle. "I'm such a naughty little rule breaker." Her eyes watched him intensely and she found herself growing irritated by the fact he wasn't looking at her. The boys she had seduced in the past had practically worshipped her, even drooled over her a little bit, but he didn't even batter an eyelid – that was the difference between a boy and a man. He treated her like she was nothing to him and it infuriated her to no end, yet instead of giving up she continued to press the matter, refusing to walk away until he showed her that little bit of attention. Unfolding her arms from her chest she reached his desk and leant forward, her chest spilling out of her blouse which seemed far too tight, as though it had shrunk in the wash. "Maybe you should punish me?" She finished and her lips twitched up into a smirk of pure mischief, her pigment green eyes gleaming.

Jareth paused his actions, his crystal ball coming to a rest in his right hand. His eyes drifted up a little and came into view with her chest. Her pale flesh looked so inviting, begging for him to bruise it and mark it as his own. He felt his blood rush downwards and silently cursed himself. Thankfully, he managed to keep his expression blank as ever and after a few moments, he drew his gaze away from her breasts and lifted them higher upwards to meet her gaze. He said nothing, but he didn't need to. The expression on his face showed her how unimpressed he was with her words.

Her eyes rolled with irritation and she straightened herself up once more, turning her back on him. "I'm joking, jeez... clearly the fae in you refuses to allow you to have a sense of humour, oh mighty Goblin King." She muttered out and the fact she sounded somewhat put down by his rejection pleased him greatly, even if she did dare mock his heritage. His lips twitched up into a smirk and his was a lot crueller than hers.

"Not at all." He responded, closing his right hand into a fist. The crystal ball he held in it popped like a bubble and he swung his feet around, bringing them swiftly up to rest on the desk in front of him, his boots thudding down hard. His arms stretched up behind him and he settled himself into a comfortable position, before finally finishing his sentence. "I find you being here extremely funny."

Pansy spun around to face, her face twisting up into fury for a few brief seconds but she seemed to collect herself swiftly. Tilting her head up that little higher, she flicked dark hair over her shoulders, exposing her neck to him in the process. "You know, you used to be a lot more entertaining when you were bending me over the desk. Nowadays you're just plain boring, trying to behave all good and proper like a teacher should even though we both know it's a lie. It's disgusting." It was obvious by the way she snapped out her words that he was getting beneath her skin and it felt nice to have the upper hand for once. Usually it was her making him feel out of control but tonight she seemed edgier than usual. He figured it had something to do with that Malfoy boy. If he actually gave a damn, he might have asked, but truthfully, she could come in here bawling her eyes out and he wouldn't even blink. She was nothing but a silly little girl to him that occasionally had her uses and deep down, she knew it. She even seemed to enjoy it, the sick bitch.

"I made it clear the last time we spoke, Parkinson, we are not doing this anymore." He spoke so casually, shrugging his shoulders as he did so. Her eyes observed him. He looked so peaceful, as though he didn't have a care in the world. His eyes had drifted shut at some point as he leant back into his hands, which were joined at the back of his head. As usual, his blond hair was styled perfectly, not a single piece sticking out in the wrong direction. His waist coat had been removed, leaving him in a simple peasant shirt that revealed the faintest bit of chest and those ridiculous excuses for trousers that he insisted on wearing constricted tightly around his lower regions, briefly distracting her. It was no wonder none of the girls could do work when he was teaching them and it was certainly no wonder why the boys hated his lesson. One look at his area and it was enough to make them feel inadequate for the rest of their miserable lives.

"Well, yeah but I didn't think you were actually serious." She scoffed, shaking her head slightly. "You say that _every time_. I've heard it a million times in the last three months, cowboy but we both know how the song ends – you, me...broken furniture..." She lifted her eyebrows up in a suggestive manner and he tried not to let himself be reminded of the times he had let himself get lost within her. She was such a little minx. She knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly how to play the game and all the right buttons to press to piss him off. She knew his anger was the cause of his lust, she had learnt that the first time when his riding crop had left marks on her backside for days and deep down he knew she wouldn't leave tonight until she had succeeded with what she wanted, but he was trying his damned hardest to fight it. Jareth was nobody's little bitch after all and she couldn't just come to him whenever she felt horny. Sure, he had done it to her in the past, but that was different... he was the Goblin King and therefore, he was allowed. She should be honoured.

Silence surrounded them and for just a split second, Jareth found himself under the belief that she had given up for once and left him alone. This was soon proven wrong however as he felt his feet being violently shoved off the desk. They fell back to the floor and he was forced to sit up quickly in order to stop himself from falling off his chair completely. He scowled darkly, his eyes snapping open, but there was no sign of apology on her face. Instead, she just looked pleased with herself. He bit back an animalistic growl, watching her as she perched herself on top of his desk. One of her hands reached forward and picked up a crystal ball that he had been using as a paperweight, twisting it around in her palm as though expecting it to do something special. Just as he was about to reach out and snatch it from her, she crossed on leg over the other and he found himself caught off guard by the way her skirt hitched up, revealing the creamy flesh of her thigh and the smallest view of green-laced underwear. His hands tightened in fists and a surge of lust ran threw him. She was going to drive him crazy. He hated women like her – she thought she was superior because she knew how to use her sexuality. Normally, he liked his women to be innocent, just like Sarah had been. Thinking of her did not help his bad mood and instead, he only felt it get worse.

Dragging his eyes away from her thigh, he stood up abruptly and reached out, snatching the ball from her hand. It vanished, just like the other one did and he heard her sneer in response. "Get – out...of my office." He growled at her, now standing in front of her, looming over her in an vain attempt to intimidate her. He did look rather threatening – his eyes were burning with fire and her heart skipped a beat, but the fear didn't make her want to leave. It only encouraged her to stay.

Biting down on her bottom lip, she was silent as she uncrossed her leg. She shimmied closer to the edge of the desk, her legs parting ever so slightly, somehow drawing him in the middle of them. He felt his muscles tense up. Part of him wanted to fling her away from him in disgust and another part of him wanted to push her down and ravish her. Her hands slowly slithered up to rest on his lower abdomen and she leaned up, her mouth hovering just inches away from his ear. "Make me." She whispered, challenging him.

That was it. His hand reached out and snatched the top of her left arm. His fingertips dug in deep and he had a feeling she would bruise. He got sick pleasure from this fact. With a quick yank, he had forced her off the table and back onto her feet. She yelped, stumbling at the sudden force, but he didn't stop. He merely dragged her towards the door, a hardened expression on his dark face. "Get off me, you arrogant son of a bitch!" She half yelled. He had every intention of hurling her out the classroom, but then she reached out with her spare arm and smacked her fist into his back. He bit back the grunt of pain that wanted to leave him, before suddenly yanking her even harder. She almost fell to the floor, but he tightened his grip and reached out with his spare hand, grabbing hold of her other arm and suddenly shoving her forward. Her back collided harshly with the door and she hissed out in pain. The noise pleased him. She was slightly breathless from the sudden attack and once she'd recovered, she glared up at him with anger alight in her eyes. "You're an asshole." She spat at him.

Her words didn't sting. For them to sting, he'd actually have to care about her opinion and he really didn't. "You're an evil bitch." He replied, his tone so nonchalant, as if he were stating a fact that was so simple, a fact that everybody knew. He held eye contact with her, trying not to let himself get drawn in by the way her breasts were raising up and down in a heavy manner due to her pants.

She briefly looked as though she might be offended by his words, but then she let out a taunting laugh. It started off slow at first, but then became slightly manic. She wriggled slightly under the pressure of his hands, which were gripping at her upper arms so tightly now even his fingernails were digging it, though she made no real attempt to escape him. "I am..." She breathed out in agreement, her laughter dying away. She boldly pushed her lower body forward, grazing it against his groin. He sucked in air through his teeth at the sudden contact and she laughed once more. She leaned her face upwards, but he was too tall for her to be able to reach his lips and therefore, she settled for his neck, her tongue coming out to lick a slice of flesh. "But you wouldn't want me any other way." She sung the words out in a mocking manner. It infuriated him that she knew this – knew that he wanted her. She shouldn't be allowed to know this. She should feel inferior when around him, but she didn't. She was as confident as ever and he wanted nothing more than to take that confidence away from her, to break her... but then she bit into his neck like some sort of vampire and he growled at the contact.

One of his hands released their grip and he trailed his fingertips slowly up her arm, the touch almost gentle. She took this as an invitation and leaned more into him, her breasts pressing against his chest as her mouth moved higher up his neck. His hand continued to work upwards, winding its way into her hair, fingers entwining into the silk locks. Once he was certain he had a good handful, he suddenly closed his hand into a first and tugged hard, forcing her head back to look him. She cried out in pain, shocked by the sudden attack though he didn't look remorseful as he glared down at her. "Listen to me, little girl. I am not here for your convenience... you do not come to me when you have an itch that needs to be scratched. You are not worthy enough to do so." He growled to her. "You are not in charge of this little game."

The startled expression that had appeared on her face when he had first tugged her back vanished and she simply smirked at his attempt to hurt her self-esteem. "Like I said..." She breathed out. Without warning, her arm reached out and her hand took a firm grip of his the bugle he was so infamous for. She squeezed, hard enough to bring him both pleasure and pain. He felt his body react immediately. "Punish me." She finished, her smirk becoming more of a manic grin as she waited for his response.

He hated her. No, he _despised _her. But he wanted her – perhaps even needed her. It wasn't love. It wasn't even lust. It was hatred and the need for power, the need to be in control, burning within him. He might hate her, but there was a undeniably strong attraction between them that seemed almost impossible to ignore. Sometimes he wondered if he did it just to get her to shut the fuck up. His hand tightened its grip in her hair and tugged her forward. His mouth crashed against hers and instantly, he bit down on her lower lip, tugging it harshly outwards. She gasped and he forced his tongue into the entrance, tasting the blood he had drawn and feeling no regrets. Her hand groped at his erection tighter and her tongue suddenly joined his, battling for a dominance that she would never win.

They stumbled across the room as Pansy suddenly pushed against him, forcing her body weight into him as she moved them away from the door. The entire time their tongues seemed to violently attack other, their mouths refusing to break contact. The back of his knees grazed the edge of his desk and within seconds, he had picked her up and perched her on the edge of it. Her arms enveloped themselves around his waist and tugged him toward her, slender legs wrapping around his waist. Her core pressed against his groin in a taunting grind and he found himself irritated that they were both still clothed. This was taking far too long for his liking. His hands reached up, snatching a hold of her collar and tugged hard, satisfied at how easily the material broke. He ripped until he heard buttons popping off, scattering to the floor and she yanked away from the kiss to let out a throaty groan. Mismatched eyes raked down over her body and his top lip curved up into a sneer – the succubus hadn't even bothered to wear a bra. Her breasts were just spilled out in front of him, looking relieved to finally be free from the tight confinement of her blouse. Wasting no time, he launched forward and attached his lips to her left breast, sucking it into his mouth before letting his teeth graze around her nipple. Her hands wove themselves into his hair, making a mess of it as she pushed him closer to her bosom. She was very well developed for a girl her age, even he had to admit. He had been pleasantly surprised by just how womanly her body was for a mere eighteen year old.

"Professor..." She breathed out sounding almost pleading and he couldn't help but smirk. That was more like it – she finally seemed to be learning her place though he was almost certain it wouldn't last long. Her legs tightened around his waist in an attempt to bring him closer and her fingers tugged his head away from her breast, before pulling his mouth back down to hers again in a hungry kiss. Determined to keep the control, Jareth pushed hard down against her, forcing her to lie down on her back. He grabbed hold of her wrists, pinning them either side of her head, breaking free from the kiss to take in a gulp of air. His hips moved forward, slowly grinding his erection against her most sensitive area and she mewled, thrusting her head to one side as if she were unsure of what to do with herself. When she was in throes of passion like this, she looked like such a precious thing, though it never lasted. She would suddenly look at him all smugly and he would be reminded of how much he disliked her. Not wanting to risk this happening, he buried his face her neck and licked a path downwards, releasing her wrists as he did so. Her back arched upwards, pressing her breasts into his chest.

His fingers danced up her thighs, then worked their way up her abdomen. They brushed over her hardened nipples, though didn't bother to pay too much attention to them before curving around to rest as the base of her back. Moving quickly, he suddenly tugged her back upwards and picked her up, her legs remaining wrapped around him in a vice like grip. He spun them and slammed her forward, pain shooting down her spine as he shoved her roughly up against the shelf, several different books tumbling to the floor. There was a rush of wind and coldness swept over her. She felt a twinge of magic in air and when her eyes opened she discovered they were both suddenly naked with his manhood prodding her in the stomach. His teeth bit into her collar bone, purposely marking her, part of him wanting to hurt her, another part of him wanting her to look at it later and be reminded of what he had done. Her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulder, as if responding to him, letting him know that she too could leave marks if that was the game he wanted to play. Her defiant attitude made him growl and he bit harder, causing her to cry out. Afterwards, he sucked at the flesh, as if trying to soothe the wound. His tongue tasted the flesh of her skin, getting traces of cinnamon and sea salt. It was an odd combination and yet, strangely intoxicating. If there was one perk to being a teacher, this was it. In fact, it was the _only _perk. He briefly wondered how many other students he could seduce if he truly put his mind to it and the thought made him smirk. He almost said it out loud, just to see how she would react, but he managed to swallow the words and keep quiet.

His body jerked automatically as he felt her hand suddenly wrap around his erection and squeeze gently. He released the area of flesh he had been attacking to take in a sharp inhale of air. Her fingers were so expert, something else that was surprising for a girl her age though he imagined she'd had some practise. She was hardly the Virgin Mary – far from. There were grown woman out there who hadn't even managed to master the sexuality she exuded and probably never would. "You just going to stand there all night or can we get this over with?" She suddenly growled out through pants of desire. One thing he had to admit he admired about this girl was she didn't care much for foreplay – not that he would have given her much even if she did. He didn't truly care about bringing her to a climax, it was all very selfish when he was with her and therefore, he felt no need to hold back like he had to with some of his past lovers. He might hate her, but at least she actually allowed him to use her shamelessly without whining about it.

Swatting her hand away from his manhood, she didn't need to snap at him twice. Just seconds later, he had thrust into her harshly, not bothering to ease himself in. Her nails raked harshly down his back at the sudden intrusion, tearing skin. "Oh god!" She screamed out and he suddenly realised he probably should have put a silencing spell on the room, but he figured he preferred it this way. Let people hear her moaning like the little slut she was for all he cared, it didn't matter to him. The worst this school could do was fire him and quite honestly, he wouldn't cry over it. He was only here in hope he would find some form of information on how to fix his labyrinth due to all the resources they had. His hands lowered to grip tightly at her backside, fingertips sinking into the flesh as he buried himself to the hilt, gasping at the feeling of her clenching around him. She panted heavily, before laughing in a sultry manner. Her head fell down, her forehead resting down on his shoulder as she savoured the feeling of him being there, savoured the pleasure that was washing over her in thick waves, warming her entire body in a way no one else had ever managed. Who said hate sex wasn't worth it in the long run? This was definitely fucking worth it.

He took this as his cue to go and pulled out, before thrusting back in again. She bit into his shoulder as response and he hissed out in pain. His third thrust was harder than the others and she let out a strangled noise, straightening herself out once more. One of her hands reached up, snatching hold of the top of the shelf, her fingers gripping to the wood tightly as she ground her hips into him, pushing him in further and adding friction. More books were falling from their rightful places and hitting the floor but neither of them paid the mess any heed. Her eyes shut tightly as he began a rhythm, moving in and out of her and she met each one of his thrusts with her own. They might not be able to agree on anything, but they worked perfectly together when it came to shagging. Neither of them held back, neither of them hesitated and with each move he made, she seemed to find one to match. It infuriated him and yet aroused him that she refused to break, refused to hand dominance over completely to him.

A faint sheen of sweat began to coat their bodies, causing them to glisten in the dim light that filled the room. She continued to moan loudly for him, apparently uncaring if someone did hear or too lost in her throes of passion to even consider this a possibility. Her spare hand found his backside and she squeezed his left cheek, pulling him even closer to her as he thrust inside. He grunted and let his head fall into the crook of her neck, panting hot air on her flesh as he felt the pleasure in his body rising higher and higher each time he moved back inside of her.

They bit, sucked, scratched and clawed at each other, leaving marks on various body parts. Each time she hurt him, he hurt her that little bit more, but she enjoyed it. That was where she got the pleasure from. She was more like an animal than a witch. His hands were now leaving bruises on her hips as he slammed into her in fast thrusts, her back being thrown repeatedly against the book shelf each time he entered her. Her hands had taken fistfuls of his hair and were tugging so hard he thought she might rip it from its root any second now. She had given up trying to meet his thrusts now that he had picked up the pace and instead busied herself with groping at him as best she could, while desperately trying to fight back the orgasm that was creeping closer and closer. His mouth was closed around her breast, tongue rolling its way around the bud of her nipple, teeth teasing it every now and then.

Her hands untangled themselves from his hair, one moving to clutch at his back for dear life, not wanting to fall in the frenzy of his hips while the other slipped in between them, her fingers pressing against her own clit. If he'd been feeling generous, he might have leant his own hand, but unfortunately for her, she had pissed him off earlier and therefore, she could do it herself. She seemed to be quite the pro at it anyway because just seconds after her hand had disappeared there and three more thrusts in the future, her muscles were tightening around him and she was practically screaming out like a banshee.

"Professor, oh god..._professor..._I – "She seemed to choke on thin air as the world exploded around her. Stars appeared in front of her eyes and all she could do was clutch helplessly at him, her hand moving away from in between her legs to wrap her arm around him. Her climax hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt her body spasm. Her legs tightened around him, her thighs clutching either side of his hips so tight it almost hurt. He continued to move within her, his eyes gripping shut at the way she clenched around him. One of his hands came up to grope at her breast, squeezing hard and his head lifted, crushing his mouth against hers so he could swallow the rest of her noises. In the process, he bit her tongue as if to remind her who was in control and her sharp gasp of pain was what helped him reach his climax. He spilled himself within her, groaning deeply and ruggedly against her lips as he did so. He stilled, remaining inside her as he let the final waves of his orgasm wash over him, before their bodies slumped. Her head fell down against his shoulder and he very nearly dropped her as one hand reached out to rest against the shelf, helping to keep him propped up. She was panting hard, trying to gather herself up.

He seemed to recover before her and once he was certain he was spent, he brought his arms to her thighs. He stroked down and then up, before uncurling them from his waist, placing her back on the floor, slipping out from within her. He couldn't help but smirk at the way she struggled to get her balance – she even had to reach up and grip his arm for support. He was certain she would be feeling this for the next two days and he was glad. She deserved it for winding him up. Besides, it wasn't exactly a bad thing. She should be grateful. The dull ache would be a reminder of the wonderful things he had done to her body. She seemed to finally be able to stand without him and let her hand fall away from him. He took that as he cue to turn and moved back towards his desk.

With a click of his fingers, a robe suddenly appeared on his form, loosely hanging around his features and covering most of his body from view. He let himself fall down into the office chair with a moan of satisfaction leaving his lips. His eyes closed and he basked in the afterglow of it all, feeling entirely pleased with himself and finally a lot more relaxed. Pansy Parkinson definitely had her uses – if she could just learn to never talk again, she would be almost bearable to be around. Keyword being almost.

The sound of her laughter broke him from his peaceful reverie and he opened one eye to see her looking smug, standing there in all her naked glory, not even bothering to cover herself as she leant against the book shelf they had just destroyed. "See?" She cooed out in such a smartass tone. He felt his anger flaring up once more and his relaxation was beginning to fizzle out, watching as she picked up a book. "Broken furniture... I told you. It's our thing." She finished with a shrug of her shoulders, throwing the book back to the floor rather than just putting it back on the shelf. He merely narrowed his eyes dangerously and glared at her, contemplating cursing her. If only they were in the labyrinth, he could just stick her in an oubliette and be done with it. She would stay there until he needed her again to relieve himself, she'd make the perfect pet.

She seemed to notice his aggressive look and rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, smile. You just had your world rocked by an eighteen year old. How many men your age can say that's how they spend their Friday nights?" She drawled out, walking towards him and slipping herself onto his lap, straddling him. He held his hands up to his chest and twisted his face up, as if he was personally offended by the sudden invasion of his personal space, despite what they had been doing just moments before.

His fingers flexed and he swallowed once, before leaning forward. Their lips were dangerously close when he spoke. "If I remember rightly, you were the one withering like a bitch on heat." He growled out, apparently not appreciating the insinuation she had just made about rocking his world. It made her sound like she had the control and that was not the case. His hands came to rest on her hips though rather than pull her closer, he pushed her off of him and with a roll of her eyes, she stood once more, not looking offended, simply irritated.

"What, no sweet kisses? No snuggling?" She drawled out sarcastically, looking down at him and tilting her head to one side. She looked truly like a state – her hair was sticking out in all different directions, her lips were swollen, her face was flushed and there were marks on several areas of her bodies that he had proudly left with his mouth, teeth and nails. It was a rather beautiful masterpiece. "No 'when can I see you again, oh darling love of mine'?" She brought her hand dramatically to her chest as if she were truly devastated by his lack of response to her. Again she was mocking him and his eyes flashed with fire. This only made her smirk. "Careful, keep those dirty looks under control. That's what got me going in the first place." She murmured seductively, winking afterwards and he instantly looked away.

"If I ever gave you the impression that I felt anything other than pure loathing for you, I apologise, but believe me when I tell you if I have to see you again, it will not be by my choice." Jareth drawled out, not caring how rude his words were considering he had just thoroughly fucked her against the wall just moments ago.

"Whatever. Forgive me if I don't cry over it." Pansy replied sarcastically, her sharp tongue never letting her down. He wasn't sure whether he was offended or not by her lack of response, though he wasn't surprised by it. She wasn't one of those doe-eyed girls who believed in Prince Charming and fairytales. She probably didn't even believe in love. The only thing she did seem to believe in actually was herself and he supposed he couldn't fault the girl there – it would get her far in life. It would curse her to an eternity of being alone of course, he should know, but she would have power and to him, that would be a great achievement. Once again he found himself realising what a perfect asset she would be if she was actually decent with a wand and knew how to keep her mouth shut, though he quickly brushed these thoughts away, deciding it was pointless dwelling on what would never be. He needed to get back to focusing on what was important and that certainly was not her. It was his Labyrinth.

He watched her for a few moments before sighing impatiently. "Why are you still here?" He snapped.

Again, she didn't look offended – he had noticed in the past that once she had gotten her way, it was almost near impossible to offend her whereas if he had said something like that before, she most certainly would have spat a violent insult in his direction as retaliation. "Well, gee, it probably has something to do with the fact I don't particularly want to walk back to my common room naked. I need my clothes back, so if you would be so kind as to return them, I would be eternally grateful." Her sarcasm got worse with every syllable and he narrowed his eyes.

"No...no, I don't think will. I rather like the thought of making you walk back looking like the shameful tart you are." He commented lightly, actually sounding as though he was considering this. She narrowed her eyes and her fists clenched. Okay, so maybe it wasn't impossible to offend her after all. He waited for a few moments before just rolling his eyes dramatically and clicking his fingers, making it seem as though it took up a great deal of energy to do this for her when it didn't. Just under three seconds, she was fully dressed once more, her uniform perfectly neat and the buttons on her blouse fixed. Her hands straightened out her skirt, then fiddled with her hair though once she seemed satisfied with her appearance, she turned to leave, not even bidding him much of a farewell.

"Don't think about me too much when I'm gone." She called over her shoulder mockingly.

"I wasn't thinking about you when you were here." Jareth responded, his tone effortless and bored. He just wanted to go to sleep now, he was no longer in the mood for her games, not that he ever was.

She laughed at his words, opening the door as she did so. "Ouch - if I had a heart, my feelings might have actually been hurt then." She commented, before just giving him a mocking wave in his direction. "Goodnight, Professor. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again real soon." She blew him a kiss and he didn't even bother to deny her because deep down, he knew she would come back to him and if she didn't, he would find his way to her. As long as he was at Hogwarts, it seemed impossible to ignore her. She was an addiction that he utterly despised, yet could not quite quit. He knew one day, perhaps even someday soon, he would leave this wretched place and return home. They would part ways and neither of them would ever look back, not once, but for now...well, he might as well take advantage of the time he had with her. He might hate her, but his body clearly didn't and sometimes actions spoke louder than emotions.


End file.
